


winter light

by westofmoon



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Canon Timeline, Canon Divergent?, Curses, F/M, Magic-Induced Amnesia, Memory Loss, Nutcracker AU, Some Fluff, canon adjacent?, mostly angst and pining, though its not very nutcrackery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westofmoon/pseuds/westofmoon
Summary: Celaena Sardothien does not remember who she was before she came into the care of Arobynn Hamel. But the mysterious green-eyed male she just met certainly seems to.*it has a name now!
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Rowaelin - Relationship
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	1. the doll

**Author's Note:**

> TW for physical abuse (just to be safe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through and edited the first three chapters; changed a few things, some wording, hopefully fixed any grammatical errors.
> 
> TW for physical abuse (just to be safe)

_21st of December  
_ The streets of Rifthold had been abandoned. Not surprising, this late on a snowy night hardly two days before Yulemas. The citizens were all home, warm and safe by their hearths or in their beds. 

All but Celaena Sardothien. 

She had no family, nor true home. None that she could recall at least. 

As she prowled down the empty streets, she shrugged a bit deeper into her worn black cloak in an attempt to stave off some of the bitterly cold air seeping into her collar. Beneath her cloak, her gloved hand drifted down to her satchel, once more feeling to make sure the item she carried was still inside. 

It was. Just as it had been the last time she had checked minutes ago. 

Arobynn Hamel, her caretaker, would not be pleased that she had accepted such a thing as payment for her services. But the client had not had enough gold, and so they had offered her the doll to make up the difference. 

In was an odd thing. Carved from pine wood and painted prettily to look like a man. Male, for its little pointed ears hinted that it was meant to be a fae. Its hair was white, its eyes a dark shade of green. Black markings swirled down the side of its little painted face. It even had a little wooden sword attached to its right hip, like it was a little warrior. 

Celaena didn’t know why she had accepted the thing. She knew that Arobynn would be pissed and would likely use it for firewood, but there was just something about it… 

And she had to admit, even if only to herself, that it was rather darling.

Hopefully Arobynn would not yet be home when she returned, and she might have a chance to hide the doll, even if she would have to cover the difference with coin from her own savings.

When she finally arrived at the manor, she let herself in through the servants entrance in the kitchens, letting out a loud, and very unladylike, groan at the sweltering warmth of the ovens. She snatched a few small tea cakes off of the counter as she passed, shoving them into her mouth as she made her way into the main hallways and up to her rooms. 

Unfortunately, Arobynn was home, though he was conveniently occupied. So Celaena slipped past his study and quickly dashed up to her quarters. Yanking off her hood, she rushed over to the little box hidden in her wardrobe where she hid what little gold she had and fished out enough to make up the difference from the client. 

But before she could hide her doll, she was summoned back to Arobynn’s study. 

She knew better than to keep him waiting, even for a moment, so with her bag and the doll still nestled within, she immediately made her way back down stairs. 

Arobynn sat in his large, wing-backed chair, flipping idly though the pages of one of his ledgers, waiting for her to give him the payment to write down. “Why did you go to your room?” he asked, not bothering to lift his silver eyes from his book.

Celaena crossed her arms. “I wished to make myself presentable for you. I see my efforts were not appreciated.”

He looked up then, tossing the sheet of his long, dark auburn hair over a shoulder with a low, deep chuckle. His long fingered hand reached out, palm up, expectant and waiting.

Right to the point then. Celaena dug the little pouch out of her bag, trying not to draw attention to the large item still inside, and dropped it into his waiting hand. 

Celaena watched as Arobynn counted the gold, his silver eyes glinting with greedy delight. 

_Caretaker_ was perhaps a _very_ _thinly_ stretched name for what he truly was. Master was closer to the truth. She had been with him for as long as she could remember, which admittedly, wasn’t long at all. 

It had been nearly three years since he had found her lying in the snow on the street, on a Yulemas Eve night much like this one. Wearing nothing but a thin slip of a dressing gown and not a thing to her name -which she couldn’t even recall- but a pendant of turquoise and gold, inlaid with what looked to be horn fashioned into the shape of a stag. By some miracle or another, Arobynn had let her keep it. 

She hadn’t been able to remember how she had ended up on the street, or who she was. Arobynn had given her the name Celaena and given her a place to stay in exchange for working for him. 

“Very nice,” Arobynn crooned, drawing her from her musings. He held out a single coin between his fingers, offering her her cut of the payment. She took it carefully and slipped it into her pocket, never mind that she was now poorer than she had been before the job. 

Arobynn leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he laced his fingers together. His silver eyes swept over her again, and she fought the urge to shiver. “Are you going to show me what is in your bag, Celaena?” he asked, voice deadly soft.

 _Rutting hell_. She had thought she was going to get away without him noticing. She should have known better.

Reluctantly, Celaena removed the satchel from around her body and handed it over to him. Arobynn immediately began rummaging inside, as if he had suspected she was hiding more gold from him. 

But as he withdrew what was inside the pouch, his dark brows rose in surprise. “A doll?” He looked at it carefully for a moment before he glanced at her. “This was the payment you received tonight.” It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t bother to answer; he already knew. “You always were a soft-hearted, sentimental fool. Accepting charity and worthless rubbish.”

She refused to flinch at his words, but Celaena still held her breath as his fingers tightened around the doll, as if he could shatter it. 

But then he arched an auburn brow. “It is rather well made,” he mused. “And unusual. Perhaps it might fetch a nice sum on the market.”

Celaena silently released the breath she had been holding. She didn’t want to part from the doll but… if it meant that Arobynn didn’t destroy it-

As if he had heard her, Arobynn’s eyes rose to her face, the silver glinting like the metal they shared color with. He must have read the relief in her features before she could hide it, for a cruel, cutting smile twisted his face. “But I think I’d rather it keep me warm tonight,” he said simply. 

And tossed the doll into the roaring fireplace.

“ _No_!” The shriek that rent the air was inhuman, a desperate sound the likes of which she had never heard before, rippling from her lips. Half a heartbeat later, she was diving after the doll, her knees barking in pain as they hit the stone floor of the heart. 

Celaena’s hands passed through the fire, the orange and yellow flames licking at her skin as her fingers wrapped around the doll. 

She didn’t know why she did it, why it mattered. Her body had simply reacted, as if on instinct. For some reason, her soul could not bear the thought of that doll burning, of it being destroyed. Somehow she knew that if it ceased to exist, she would be losing something important. 

As if it would be taking a piece of her soul with it. 

Long fingers grasped a fistful of her hair, pulling so painfully at her scalp that her eyes stung. And then Arobynn yanked her backwards, ripping her away from the fireplace.

Celaena hit the floor, landing painfully on her shoulder. Her smoldering doll clattered a few feet away, rolling across the elaborate throw rug and singeing the fine weave. She tried to push herself up to her knees, to crawl after it, still driven by that surge of protectiveness, but Arobynn’s fist collided with her face. The coppery taste of blood coated her tongue as her lip split, and she fell again. 

Her head was still reeling, ears ringing from the impact, when a hand wrapped around her upper arm and Celaena was wrenched back. Caught somewhere between kneeling and standing, her boots scrabbled at the floor, trying to get her feet beneath her and relieve the painful way her arm was twisted. Arobynn’s grip was so tight that she knew there would be a hand-shaped bruise on her flesh very soon. 

Arobynn hissed something into her ear, some threat or other promise of violence, but Celaena didn’t care. She didn’t bother to listen. Her entire being was focused on her doll, though her eyes were else where. On the clock on the wall, the gaudy statue atop the bookshelf, anywhere but on that doll, so as not to encourage her master further.

Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Arobynn dropped her onto the floor and stormed out of the room with a darkly muttered order to be out of his study by the time he returned. 

When the sound of his thunderous footsteps had faded, and she was sure that he was gone, Celaena slowly rose to her feet. Winching, she padded over to where the doll lay and gingerly picked it up, cradling it against her chest as she turned and, as quickly as she could, vacated the room. 

Once she was safely back in her own chambers, Celaena shucked off her travel clothes and wandered over to her bed. She sat lightly on the edge of the mattress and began inspecting the doll for any damage. 

She expected it to be much worse, but other than a few sooty stains, it was unharmed. And then she realized something else. Celaena glanced at her hands and saw that they were unburned as well. 

The last few moments replayed in her still-addled brain as she wondered how it was possible. It was like the fire had parted for her, had reacted to her scream. Almost like _magic_ -

No. She couldn’t entertain that thought. Magic was forbidden in Rifthold, even to think of…

Taking out a handkerchief, Celaena began wiping the soot smudges off of the wooden doll. Off of its little boots and arms and face. The white-painted hair was the hardest to clean, the black soot smearing in the carved grooves like a nightmare. 

When Celaena was satisfied that he was properly cleaned, she lay her doll gently on her pillow and went to wash up and dress for bed. With a clean cloth, she dabbed at her newly split lip until all the blood was gone, wincing at each touch as the warm water stung. As she had expected, a bruise in the shape of Arobynn’s long-fingered hand now marred her upper arm with a stain of dark blue and purple. 

With a sigh, she shucked off her clothes and pulled on a clean nightgown, the hem brushing against her knees. The light from the candle she had lit glinted off the edge of her gold necklace as she brushed and rebraided her hair loosely down her back. 

Finally, she crawled into bed, ready to sleep. As she nestled down beneath the warm sheets, she found herself looking over at the little pine doll. Celaena didn’t know what possessed her, but she lifted two fingers to her lips and kissed their tips before reaching over to tap them against his cheek. 

Feeling a strange relief in her chest at the action, Celaena lay back on her pillows and let herself drift off to sleep.

~*~

Celaena’s eyes fluttered open in confusion at the sudden chill in the room. 

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but as she lifted her head to glance about the room, she saw that it was still pitch black outside. And as her eyes scanned the room, she realized that it seemed awfully dark inside as well. 

How strange. 

She lay her head back down, her left hand reaching out across the bed, searching for her doll. And her eyes snapped open wide as she realized he was gone. 

Celaena sat up, looking all around in the sea of sheets, under the pillows… But he was not there. Rising onto her knees, she crawled over to the edge of the bed to peer down at the floor. Perhaps she had accidentally knocked him off as she slept. 

But he wasn’t there either.

That was when she first saw the shadow move, as if peeling away from the darkness hugging the corners of the room. A form, blacker than the space around it, shifted. Coming closer… and closer.

Acting on instinct, Celaena spun, diving for her pillow and the knife she kept hidden beneath. Just as her fingers wrapped around the hilt, the thing lurched at her. It was blacker than night, and in the place where eyes should have been was a glow like hot coals. Long claw-like fingers reached out, aiming for her neck. 

Celaena rolled across the bed, and those sharp nails bit into the headboard instead of shredding her flesh. Twisting around, she brought her arm arcing downward, the blade of her knife sinking into creature’s forearm. 

No… passing _though_ it. As if weren’t even there.

She balked in confusion. But then the metal of the blade began to frost over, the hilt turning so cold in her hand that it _burned_. With a yelp, Celaena stumbled back off of the bed, the blade clattered to the floor as the chill sank into her bones, colder than ice. 

The shadowy creature simply glanced at where she had attempted to stab it, and then turned its coal-like gaze upon her once more. And grinned, revealing rows of sharp, needle teeth.

It took a step towards her, just one, before a blinding flash lit up the space between them. Celaena covered her eyes until the white glow faded. She blinked into the darkness until her eyes readjusted, and her heart nearly stopped at what she saw. 

A man stood before her, between her and that shadow. Gods, he was _tall_ , his shoulders broad, his hair a shocking shade of silvery white…

Steel gleamed in the dim light as he drew his sword. And then, faster than any man had a right to be, he lunged for the creature. The air around the man shimmered, and Celaena’s skin pebbled as the temperature in the room plummeted, and ice -actual chips of _ice_ \- formed about him. The blade sang as he aimed a strike for the creature’s neck, the swing so precise that it should have severed the creature’s head from its shoulders… had it not evaded the blow. 

But though his sword missed its mark, the ice did not. Those shards-like-daggers cut through the darkness and embedded deep into those night-colored limbs. 

Celaena’s hands clamped over her ears at the shadow let out a bloodcurdling, shrieking _hiss_. Snarling, it turned its glowing eyes upon the man, and they seemed to widen in what she swore was alarm. And then, just as suddenly, those ember-like eyes went dark, like a fire being snuffed out, as it quickly slunk away, sinking back into the shadows from which it had emerged. 

And then it was gone. Simply vanishing into thin air, as if it had never been there at all. The unnatural darkness that shrouded the corners of the room faded, becoming ordinary shadows once more. 

A heartbeat passed, and then another, and the man continued to stand there. Just beyond the end of her bed, his large form rigid and still as death itself. But the he let out a heavy breath, as if finally deeming the room to be safe, that creature truly gone, and he sheathed his weapon once more. 

As she stared at his back, Celaena saw his broad shoulders rise and fall again as he took a deep, steadying breath. And then slowly, he turned to look in her direction. 

Through the darkness of the room, Celaena met and held a pair of green eyes. Dark green, like that of a pine forest after midnight. And as she held that gaze, something deep within her shifted. A clang, like a sword against a shield, rattled through her head and Celaena’s hands rose to her head, fingers buried into her hair as pain cracked through her skull like an echo.

It was so painful that she gasped aloud, her body doubling over. 

Those eyes. _Those eyes_.

Her mind was going fuzzy as unconsciousness beckoned. And just before it claimed her, a thought flitted through her mind, just out of reach of her desperate, grasping fingers. As if it delighted in taunting her…

 _I know those eyes_.

But then it was gone. And Celaena knew no more.


	2. magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-edited

_22nd of December  
_

It was cold. 

That was the first thought that flitted through Celaena’s mind as she rose back into the waking world. Many small somethings tickled her bare skin, like a hundred tiny kisses, each one cold and wet.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she found herself nearly blinded by white light. She blinked away the brightness, and as her eyes began to adjust, she saw that… Snow. There was snow _everywhere_. It even clung to her eyelashes. 

Celaena carefully sat up, the cottony-white beneath her crunching with the movement, and she scanned the world around her. 

And found that she certainly was not in Adarlan any longer. 

She was in and evergreen forest, surrounded on all sides by spruce and fir and cedar trees, juniper bushes and holly shrubs with their bright red berries, and tall pines towering overhead. Snow clung to their needles and branches as it fluttered down around them. The clearing she was in glistened like a thousand diamonds in the early morning sun that peeked through the boughs above. 

The sounds of chirping and skittering, like tiny claws on bark, met her ears and Celaena turned, expecting to see a bird or a squirrel or some other little woodland creature. But instead she found nothing. Though she could have sworn that she saw a small dark blur duck behind the gnarled roots of a great pine, but upon a second glance, all was still except for the fluttering of snowflakes. 

Celaena pushed herself to her feet. How had she gotten here? She had never seen a place such as this, she was sure. Not in recent memory at least. 

It was so beautiful and pristine, and stole the breath from her lungs. But it was also very cold. And she was only wearing a nightgown, now damp from the melted snow she had lain in. As if to make matters even more uncomfortable, her stomach gave a growl, and she realized that she was also starving.

She needed to find something to eat, and some place warm. Soon.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Celaena took a few wobbly steps, the snow underfoot melting and squishing between her bare toes as she walked, adding to the chill that already bit at her skin though her thin gown. 

A shiver wracked her body. 

And then suddenly a warmth bubbled up within her chest, swelling and swelling. Spreading down her legs and out her arms, until it reached her fingers and toes. Until…

Tendrils of fire leapt up around her, swirling about like golden ribbons on the wind. Instantly her entire body felt warmer, and the snow around her feet began to melt, revealing a bed of pine needles. And though the fire danced atop them, they did not burn. 

Celaena gaped in awe. 

Magic. This was _magic_.

But she was not scared of it as she should have been. Instead, she felt a sense of excitement. Of anticipation. 

She lifted a hand and without hesitation, reached out towards the swirling golden flames. They almost seemed playful as they licked at her fingers, tickling her skin but not burning. 

And Celaena felt herself smile. 

For as long as she could recall, she had been told magic was wrong. Magic was evil. A thing to be shunned. But this… this did not feel evil or wrong, it felt… _wonderful_. Right.

A laugh tumbled past her lips and at the sound, the magic around her flared, glowing brighter. And with a start, Celaena realized that it was _her_ magic.

The flames flickered, as if in confirmation. _Took you long enough_ , they seemed to say.

With barely a thought, they grew, rising like a fountain around her, all the way up to the lowest branches of the tallest pines above. And then they shrank and wove around each other.

Celaena reached out again, this time with both hands, and those ribbons of fire crawled up her arms. 

_Oh_ , her heart, her soul, seemed to say. _Yes, this. This is familiar_. It was like greeting an old friend. Or so Celaena assumed that was what it would feel like; she remembered no old friends to compare it too. 

She watched as her fires wove about her fingers, wrapping around her wrists, forming bracelets and rings as the colors shifted from gold to ruby to brightest sapphire. But then suddenly, the magic went still, perking up in attention. 

But it wasn’t because of something she had done or willed. No, it… sensed something. 

Her magic felt almost happy as another sensation brushed up against it. Another magic, one that felt cold, but not unpleasant. One that smelled of pine and snow and winter storm winds.

Sensing a presence behind her, Celaena spun on her heel. And found the man from before standing a short distance away. His tall frame was leaned against a nearby tree, watching her with those pine green eyes as a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. A gesture that had her heart flipping strangely in her chest. 

Something about him tugged at a memory in the back of her mind. It was something important, she knew. _Remember_ , her heart seemed to plead, _remember_! But… it was too far out of reach for her to grasp.

The man pushed away from the tree and slowly walked towards her, and the look in his eyes had her heart beating strangely. Disbelief. Wonder. Awe. As if he was unsure of what he was seeing. As if he could not believe his eyes. Each step closer came slower and more hesitant than the one before, like he was afraid he might spook her. 

Celaena was a bit surprised at herself. Under normal circumstances, she would have drawn the knife she normally kept sheathed at her thigh and embedded it between his eyes by now. Or she could even have used her newfound magic to melt his bones, to turn him to ash on the wind. She knew she could; she could feel it, that power there, ready and waiting beneath the surface. 

But she didn’t. She didn’t do either of those things. Did not feel the need to. 

Because something about him was…

Without even a word passed between them, she knew that she could trust him. 

As he looked her over with that continued expression of awe, she took her own time to study him in return. 

He was handsome, breathtakingly so. His face rugged and harsh, but possessing an underlying gentleness that she knew few could see. His hair silvery white, his green eyes dark. The delicate points of arched fae ears peeked through his slightly shaggy locks. The man- male, was tall. Taller than most men she had met, his frame strong and muscular; a warrior. The lines of a swirling black tattoo trailed down his jaw, disappearing into the collar of his shirt- 

Wait. That tattoo, those markings… They looked like- like the markings on her doll. Even his hair and eyes matched the pine doll perfectly. Could he be-? Had he been-?

Magic. _All_ of this was magic.

What in the name of the wyrd was going on?

The male was close now, mere feet away. Close enough to touch and Celaena’s fingers twitched at the though. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand, as if he intended to brush his fingers along her cheek or run them through her hair. And somewhere inside her, a thing cried out in longing for that touch. Her magic leaned towards it, waiting and anticipating. 

But her rutting mouth chose that moment to work, to move of its own accord. “Who are you?” Celaena asked. She wanted, needed to know…

The male stopped short, his hand slowly retreating back to himself and dropping to his side. And that thing within her cried out in disappointment. 

A look of utter heartbreak and devastation filled his stunning green eyes, limning his features. One would have thought that she had taken his every hope and dream between her hands and incinerated them with that simple question.

That look of pain sent a pang though Celaena’s own chest, and her hand rose to rest above her heart, rubbing softly at the ache. 

His mouth thinned slightly into a hard line before he finally answered, “Rowan.” His voice was deep and rumbling, possessing a lilting accent that she didn’t recognize but found familiar all the same. “My name is Rowan.”


	3. Rowan

Snow continued to fall as they made their way though the forest. Fat white flakes flitted between the boughs above and fluttered down to add to the already thick layer of white covering the path upon which they tread.

Rowan walked before her, the snow doing little hinder his graceful movements, almost as if it were parting for him to pass, but Celaena had to hurry to keep up with the tall, quiet male. With each step that she took, Celaena sent a tendril of fire down to pool around her bare feet, keeping her toes warm and melting the snow down to the bed of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor beneath.

Celaena tugged the green cloak that she now wore a bit more securely about her shoulders. It was Rowan’s; the wool thick and soft, his warmth still clinging to the fibers. Along with that intoxicating, familiar scent of pine and snow. It made her head spin, made her want to pull the cloak even closer. To wrap herself up within it, as if in a cocoon or a lover’s embrace, and remain there forever.

Her cheeks heated a bit at the thought and she flicked her gaze up to the male in question, only to find his pine green eyes darting away. But not before she noted the same glimmer of pain and heartache shining still dimming their brightness, still limning his harsh features. 

She didn’t understand it… Why he looked at her so. As if his heart were breaking into a thousand pieces each time he gazed upon her face, his eyes filled with some other emotion she could not quite name. 

Celaena was sure that she knew him. Somehow… But she had not been able to capture the memory that had taunted her. When she tried to follow as it fled into the darkened corners of her mind, all she had found was an impenetrable wall. Shimmering, like a veil made of light, but as solid as steel. And she had not been able to push though. 

Blinking away the thought, she looked up at Rowan again. Though she was sure that she had known him, she could not recall a thing about him. She knew that she trusted him, completely. Would trust him with her very life. But she did not know who he was or who he had been to her. 

“You were… my doll?” The question came out stilted, but it seemed as good a place as any to begin. 

Rowan glanced at her in question before his eyes quickly shifted ahead again, and Celaena’s heart gave a painful twist. “Aye,” he replied, his voice low and soft and hesitant.

“How?” she breathed. 

His lips thinned, silver brows drawn together in anger. But not anger at her. No, it was… for something else. “Maeve,” he nearly snarled, his voice full of a deadly calm. “The queen of the valg, demon creatures who are cruel and delight in feeding off of the joy and life of other beings.”

Celaena pursed her lips in thought. _Maeve. Valg._ Those words, those names, struck some chord deep within her mind. She looked back up at the male again, “Why would she do such a thing?”

“Much like the rest of her ilk, Maeve enjoys tormenting and toying with the lives of others. And…,” Rowan paused for half a heartbeat and glanced her way again, “there was someone I was searching for, someone who was very dear to me and important to a great many others, and Maeve wished to make things more difficult.”

She tilted her head, giving him a questioning stare. _Who_?

“My… queen,” he answered haltingly. “The queen of Terrasen and the Faerie Queen of the West.” His green eyes took on a far off, haunted look, as if he were reliving a terrible memory or… a nightmare. “Three years ago,” he began, so softly that his voice might easily have been carried away on the breeze, “Maeve appeared and stole her away from the people who loved her most, leaving us to believe her dead.” Rowan was silent for several heartbeats more, sorrow dimming his eyes, and Celaena could practically _feel_ his heart breaking within her own chest. “A few months ago I felt- Word arrived that my queen might yet still be alive. It was a chance I had to take, and so I set out in search of her. But Maeve wanted to make my search more difficult…”

Celaena caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Why did all of this sound like something she should _remember_ , like a dream she had had so long ago. One that had long faded into near oblivion with time and now was beyond recollection. “So that shadowy creature from before… it was a valg.”

“Aye,” he confirmed, watching her out of the corner of his eye as if gauging her reaction.

She dropped her gaze to the snow blanketing the path before them, watching as it glimmered in the dim light beneath the trees like a sea o diamond dust spread out before them. Her heart ached for Rowan’s suffering. And for the suffering of his queen. Whomever she had been, it was obvious that he had loved her very much, if the way his gaze softened at the mere mention of her was any indication. 

Celaena bit back the strange pang of jealousy she felt for this woman she didn’t even know. 

A rustling in a juniper shrub off to the left met Celaena’s ears, and when she glanced towards it, she saw something small and dark dart out of the shadow of the shivering bush and duck behind a nearby tree. The movement nearly too fast for her human eyes to follow. 

They had been following them ever since they had left the clearing; whatever the tiny creatures were. But Celaena was not afraid of them. These little creatures did not have the same feel to them as the shadowy thing, the valg, from before. 

And with the male walking at her side, Celaena was not afraid of anything. 

The fae male in question noticed her gaze then, and followed it, his much keener eyes easily seeing through the shadows and tracking the quick movements. “It is only the Little Folk,” he assured her calmly. 

_Oh_. So _that_ was what they were. Celaena blinked at the tiny figure that moved in the darkness, letting the information settle into place. As if it had been there all along. 

After a moment, she turned back to Rowan, only to find that he had moved further ahead. Celaena rushed to catch up, taking several hurried steps until she was standing at his elbow once more. She glanced up at him sheepishly and saw one of his silver brows quirked in mild amusement. 

She captured her bottom lip between her teeth nervously, both at the look on his face and at the question that had been nagging at the back of her mind for several long moments now. She found herself asking, “What was her name? Your queen.”

Something flickered across Rowan’s face; pain and heartbreak and longing. And some emotion that she could not quite catch. 

“Aelin.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Her name was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.”

That name… Aelin. _Aelin… Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius._

Celaena rolled the name over and over on her tongue. In her mind. 

Slowly, she looked up to Rowan again, and an almost expectant look came over his features. Along with a hint of what Celaena could only describe as hope. It transformed his face into a thing of heartbreaking beauty, and she suddenly found it rather difficult to breathe. “What did that thing what with me, though? Do you think that maybe I-”

His eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. And for a heartbeat, she thought that Rowan might not have been breathing either. 

“Did it think that I might know where she was?” 

Rowan’s shoulders sank, the movement so small that one would have missed it. But Celaena did not. The hope that had sparked in his eyes guttered and went out again, and he quickly looked away, as if he thought to hide the disappointment from her. 

Celaena’s stomach knotted. _He must have been hoping that I knew, as well_ , she thought. The urge to reach over and touch him, to try and comfort him in whatever way she could was so strong that she curled her fingers into a fist at her side. If he had been hoping that she could help him, he likely would not wish for comfort from her at the moment. 

But then Rowan cleared his throat and murmured softly, “I do not know.” He kept his gaze directed ahead, as if he could not bear to look at her. Still, Celaena saw the sadness in his eyes, and heard it in his tone. 

And an ache the likes of which Celaena had never felt before wracked her chest. It was almost as if she could feel his heart breaking within her own chest. Like it was echoing down a thread, from his heart into hers…

She did not like it. That sorrow. That pain. Did not want him to feel such things. She would do anything to banish it. To bring a smile to his face. But she did not know how.

They continued onward in silence. Until a flicker of movement caught Celaena’s eye and drew her attention once more to the trees. 

And she saw them. The Little Folk. Tiny beings with large eyes, all spindly fingers and dark or light or scaled bodies. They darted back into a darker patch of shadow at her gaze, but one remained a heartbeat longer than the rest. It blinked its big glassy eyes slowly up at Celaena. And then it bowed its head to her, a gesture of reverence and esteem.

Celaena blinked in alarm, something sparking in her consciousness. A memory… Something importan-

“ _Oomnff_.” She let out a muffled cry as she collided with a massive form. As she staggered back a step, a gasp escaping her lips, two strong hands slipped around her waist, halting her fall and pulling her back against a warm, unyielding body. 

A deep voice rumbled above her ear, breath warming her temple. “Careful.”

Rowan. Oh, gods.

Celaena’s hands landed upon his broad chest as she steadied herself on her feet, feeling the warmth of him against her palms, even through the layers of his shirt and tunic. 

Feeling her face heat, she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, an apology forming on her tongue.

But the words died on her lips as she beheld the look on his face. 

At the softness gracing his features. That hint of amusement in his eyes. That echo of a smile tugging at his lips. 

Her breath caught in her chest, her heart breaking into a thundering timpani, one that she was sure Rowan could hear with his pointed fae ears. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he could feel each beat with the way they were now pressed against each other.

Celaena could do nothing but stare, completely mesmerized by that look, that hint of a smile.

Rowan seemed just as enchanted by her, given the way his eyes drank her in. Like a man who had been locked in the dark now seeing the light of the sun for the first time in years. 

The broad hands resting on her waist tightened, ever so slightly, the warmth of them seeping though the cloak and the thin nightgown she wore beneath.

But to Celaena, it was not nearly tight enough. 

She could only stare up at him. _This face_ , she thought. She knew this harsh, handsome face. Those pine green eyes, with their flecks of brown. The crinkle between his brows, that set her fingers to twitching with the urge to smooth over with a fingertip. She knew it all, as well as she knew her own face. But the tattoo…

Dark swirls and sharp points and dots ran along the left side of his face, from his temple down down over the sharp line of his jaw, along the side of his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt before reappearing to grace his left hand, his fingers… 

_That_ had not been there before.

And something about those stark markings caused an ache in Celaena’s chest.

As if it had sensed her anguish, Rowan’s magic drew in close around them, wrapping the two of them up within a bubble of warm air, of comfort. _I’m here, I’m here, I have you_ , it seemed to say. _I have you and I won’t ever let you go…_

Her own magic blazed in response, leaning into his like a cat, as if it could meld closer still. As if it could merge into one…

And then Celaena felt something within her pull taught. Tugging, urging her closer to Rowan. She was sure that he felt it too. That pull. For his chest heaved with a sudden breath, his heart pounding beneath her palms.

Rowan’s lips parted, his head tilting ever so slightly as his gaze drifted over her face. Those pine green eyes were filled with a look that Celaena could only describe as desire. And she felt her own eyes becoming heavy-lidded at his look, a warmth pooling in her stomach. She leaned in a bit closer and-

Rowan blinked. As if coming out of a daze, and the look that had been in his eyes, that hunger, vanished. As if it had never been. 

As quickly as he had caught her, he released her, his hands moving from her waist to her shoulders as Rowan took a step back. Putting a respectable distance between them, his features hardening again as if the action pained him physically. 

He refused to look at her as he cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the path ahead. “This way,” he said roughly.

And Celaena’s heart sank, her magic wilting. The fire in her veins banked as if it had been doused with cold water. Reduced to barely smoldering embers.

For the first time since her magic had blinked to life in that clearing, Celaena felt cold. 

She nodded, though Rowan could not see, and made to follow. But as she took a step, there was no sizzle of melting snow beneath her foot, only the soft crunch of dry pine needles beneath her toes. 

Celaena blinked, lifting her head, she found that the entire path ahead had been cleared of snow. 

“Did you do this?” she asked, glancing up at Rowan curiously.

He shook his head. “No.” By way of further explanation, he flicked his steely gaze to the trees before he set out down the path again. Celaena looked and saw yet another of the Little Folk, crouched within the shadows of a holly shrub, even as the others darted between limb and root and leaf, back into the deeper shade. 

And as the one before had done, this one too dipped its little head in a bow before scurrying off after its brethren. 

Celaena quickly looked away, unsure of what all of the bowing meant. It left her feeling a bit unnerved. So she hurried after Rowan, finding it much easier to keep up with him now. 

Just as she caught up to the tall, quiet male, she noticed Rowan’s hand curling into a fist at his side. His knuckles were white from just how tightly his fingers were clenched, his hand trembling slightly. 

Alarmed, Celaena quickly looked up at his face. But she almost wished that she hadn’t when she saw the complete devastation written there. 

“ _Rowan_ ,” she rasped, her throat tightening and causing her voice to come out breathless. The backs of her eyes prickled with emotion. 

He turned to her immediately at the sound of anguish in her tone, almost too eagerly. As if he had been hoping, praying, for her to say something. 

But it was then that she saw the towers. Tall and white. Whiter than the snow around them. Visible even above the towering trees, stark against the green of the pines and the gray of the mountain peaks. 

Celaena swallowed hard. “What is that?” she asked roughly, her brows drawing together as she gazed at those tall spires in confusion. Confusion because… like everything else about this place, she felt like she had seen them before. 

“Mora’s hall,” Rowan explained, following her gaze. “The home of the Fae Queen of the East.”

He almost seemed to sink with relief and she looked at him curiously. “Is that where we are going?” 

Rowan nodded. “Yes. To see the Queen of these lands. Sellene Whitethorn.”

**Author's Note:**

> wtf is this? i have no idea. sorry it’s a weird, random, nonsensical hot mess, and really not Nutcracker-y at all…. I didn’t think a lot of things through plot wise, its just for fun and this all came tumbling out so… buckle up buttercups. I have no idea where we’re going 🤷🏻♀️
> 
> And I hope I didn’t swap Celaena and Aelin accidentally. It’s so confusing 😂
> 
> Alao posted to tumblr, @westofmoon. I post snippets there. 
> 
> I do not consent to this work being hosted on any unofficial apps or to any other websites.


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